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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114603">Practice Makes Perfect</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman'>TheSaddleman</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who, Doctor Who &amp; Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Diners, F/M, Fluff, Humour, Memory, Soufflés</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:13:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>673</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor, Nardole and Bill stop off at a diner on the way to saving the universe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Practice Makes Perfect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This short piece of fluff was originally posted to my Tumblr. Here it is in more permanent form. The story takes place during Series 10, prior to Bill finding out about Missy.</p><p>Although it's not that much of a surprise, in order to protect spoilers, I have intentionally not included certain categories for this story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Doctor stared across the table at his companions, Bill Potts and Nardole. Nardole was fiddling with an old-style salt shaker with a shiny metal screw-off top. </p><p>“So why are we here, Doctor? This diner has a nice Elvis-retro vibe, and it’s kinda odd to find a place like this in Bristol, but I thought we were supposed to be heading off and saving a planet,” said Bill. </p><p>“You know what the Doctor’s real name is, don’t you? It’s High Gallifreyan for ‘Distracted by Any Shiny Object He Sees,’” Nardole said as he continued to fiddle with the salt shaker with the shiny metal screw-off top.</p><p>The Doctor shrugged. “I think I’ve been here before, during that time when my memories got all fuzzy, before I met...him.” He nodded dismissively at Nardole, who kept fiddling with the salt shaker with the shiny metal screw-off top. “Don’t forget to toss some over your shoulder when you spill it.”</p><p>Nardole scoffed. “Spill what-” The shiny metal screw-off top he’d been fiddling with finally unscrewed and the shaker deposited a neat little pile of salt on the table in front of him.</p><p>“Now you’ve done it,” Bill said, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “Better grab a pinch and toss it over your left shoulder before the bad luck sets in.”</p><p>Nardole scowled. “I’d like to toss both of you over my left shoulder. Wasting our time, especially when I still have to check in on ...” he glanced over at Bill before cutting himself off. “Stuff.”</p><p>“Check in on what?” Bill picked up on the aborted sentence.</p><p>“I said stuff.”</p><p>Saved by the server. “Ah, here’s our meal,” the Doctor interrupted as a young woman in a retro-style blue waitress uniform arrived at the table, skillfully balancing a tray holding three ceramic ribbed bowls. “Bill, uh, you pay. I seem to have left my wallet in the TAR-er-car.”</p><p>“I always pay!” Bill protested.</p><p>The waitress chuckled as she placed the bowls on the table. “My boyfriend used to do that to me all the time. Don’t worry about it. Opening day special. It’s on the house.” She spoke with an accent Nardole could not quite place, other than it wasn’t Bristol.</p><p>The Doctor didn’t look up at her, but he nodded and said “Thanks” as the young dark-haired woman stepped away. His attention was drawn to the meal that had been placed in front of him. It looked oddly familiar.</p><p>“What is it,” Bill asked. “You act as though you’ve never seen a soufflé before.”</p><p>“Is that what this is,” Nardole said, looking at his plate disapprovingly. “I thought it was a biscuit with a glandular condition.”</p><p>The Doctor picked up his fork, unsteadily. “You live as long as I have, you get deja vu, sometimes before the fact. Just something about this souffle looks familiar.” </p><p>“Maybe you’ve eaten it before?” Bill suggested, unhelpfully.</p><p>The Doctor shrugged it off with a smile. “This is why we’re here, believe it or not. I got a message in the TARDIS saying to come to these co-ordinates and order the soufflé. I can never resist ambiguousness. Or ambiguity. Pick one.”</p><p>“You delayed our trip to Spiridon for a <em>soufflé?</em>” Nardole sneered.</p><p>“Eat up, Nardy. Never say no to free food,” sighed Bill.</p><p>The three dug into their soufflés. Immediately, the Doctor and Bill’s eyes lit up.</p><p>“Doctor, this is bloody amazing!” Bill said with her mouth full. </p><p>All the Doctor could do was nod in agreement as he was too busy savouring the taste.</p><p>Even Nardole cracked a smile. “OK, I agree. This is pretty good. For human food.”</p><p>“Pretty good?” the Doctor finally said. “This is the best soufflé I have ever tasted! Incredible!” </p><p>Not far away, standing behind the counter, pretending to rearrange some dishes as she observed the trio, with particular interest in the slim, grey-haired man who led the group, the waitress’ face lit up with a grin that could have illuminated a star system. </p><p>“Practice makes perfect, Doctor,” Clara Oswald quietly said to herself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Although technically speaking this story falls in the Whouffaldi category, I didn't really place it there for this - in part to preserve the spoiler!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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